Stealing Faces
by katyrye
Summary: He preys on life. Sara prays for her's.
1. The body was found

The day was crisp and cool for June. So cool in fact, Sara Sidle had to wear a sweater and wrap her scarf around her throat. She was supposed to be enjoying a day off, but here she was working a 4-19 beside the beautiful Lake Tahoe. She could see the crime scene just below, it was a steep drop from the road so Sara and Nick Stokes walked carefully. In her opinion, the heavy silver cases didn't make it any easier. The steep decline was muddy from the previous heavy rain, making footholds hard to find.

"What do we have?" Sara asked Captain Jim Brass.

"It's unbelievable, Sara," Brass replied. "It's like something out of a book or a movie. The victim is Shannon Andrews, age 33. She has a son at home and works part time at a used book store. She had been missing for a few weeks and her face has been all over the news."

Sara nodded. "It's horrible that a woman who works so hard has to meet a terrible fate," she said. "But can you give me a little more detail about the crime scene?"

"The body was found by a group of hikers that had stopped for a rest. It was wrapped in a black plastic garbage bag and was sealed with plastic ties. The most horrible part is that the victim had her face removed," Brass said as he gagged a little.

If there was one thing about this job, you never got used to the violence that people were capable of. In a way it was like a movie you hated. You can watch it over and over, and it would still effect you the same way. You would always hate it and you would always want to resist putting it in the DVD player. This Shannon Andrews was a mother. She was probably someone who put _Bambi_ in her DVD player instead of _Silence of the Lambs._ Now here she laid, with her face removed like a victim of Hannibal the Cannibal.

"Since the body was in the lake, we don't know where the original crime took place," Sara pointed out.

She lifted her camera and snapped a few photos of the body and its position. It was a fact that one could never have enough photos.

Brass agreed. "Yes, but from the way she is dressed, you can tell she wasn't going camping," he said.

Sara looked at the faceless body. It had started to decompose and it was bloated from being in the water for so long. Before she died, Shannon Andrews had put on a pair of slacks and a button-up dress shirt. She wore no shoes and she had one earring missing.

"The only thing we can really do is get her back to the lab and process this garbage bag. I doubt there will be anything useful on it, but you can hope," Nick said.

Sara nodded. "With this job, you learn not to hope for much," she said as she carefully made her way back to the Explorer.

0~0

He watched them. From his place in the woods, in a tree so no one could see, he watched them work. He had been listening to his scanner when he had heard about the discovered body by the lake, and he knew it had been her. It had been fun hunting Shannon Andrews, but this was a close call. He attributed it to his own carelessness, and not some random act of God. Shannon had been a screamer and he needed to get rid of her before he was discovered. So after he had had his fun hunting her, he removed her face and showed it to her. Shannon hadn't been his first. He was always careful when he chose his victims. He always brought them in from out of town. They were always young and beautiful, but not so much as to have an active social life. Whenever he got the urge to hunt, he drove around. He resisted the urge until it became too powerful, and then he chose his victim. He had hunted in northern California and San Francisco and even New Mexico, but he always brought them back to the desert. In the desert, a human could scream and no one would be able to hear you. Carelessly, he had hunted Shannon near Lake Tahoe, and now he was realizing his mistake. He watched as the two investigators talked, a man and a woman. Hunting men wasn't his style and was unsatisfying, so the man didn't interest him. The woman, on the other hand, was tall and slender. Her dark hair blew in the wind and he could almost smell it. She looked mature, but not too old for his taste. Quickly, he dismissed all thought of her, for hunting law enforcement was not something he did.

0~0

"I remember seeing her face on television," Doc Robbins said. "It's a shame she was found like this."

Sara thought it was too, but she didn't say so. "Can you tell us anything?" she asked.

"No sign of sexual trauma," Doc Robbins said. "Ms. Andrews was shot twice, once in the right shoulder and once in the hip. The bullets penetrated through the back and went all the way through, so I don't have a bullet for you. What I can tell you is that I believe she was shot in the shoulder first."

"And why is that?" Sara asked.

"Because the second shot shattered her hip bone and it would-"

"It would have been impossible to walk," Sara finished.

"I found tiny scratches along her arms, legs, and face. They looked like needle marks at first glance, but I ran a TOX-screen and her blood came back negative for any controlled substances," Doc Robbins said.

Sara closed her eyes and thought about Shannon Andrews. "Our killer obviously didn't want her to walk away. I think she was running from him," she said.

As she spoke, the door to the autopsy room opened and Gil Grissom walked in. Sara focused her attention back to the body and did not look at him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked more rudely than she should have.

"I put Nick on arson in the Henderson, you get me," Grissom said with pride.

Sara wasn't impressed, so she filled him in on her findings. "I believe she was running from someone and these scratches and scrapes are from trees and twigs," she explained.

"I can tell you that the cause of death was not these gunshots, but she bled out. Probably because her face was peeled off and with accurate precision," Doc Robbins said.

Sara bent closer to where the victims face should be. "I think she was alive to see her own face removed," she said.

Gil nodded. "Did you find any splinters?" he asked Doc Robbins.

"Yes I did," Doc Robbins said. "I found two in the calves and one in her arm."

He handed the bottle to Grissom and he shook them around. He cocked his head to the side and Sara thought he was doing an excellent impression of a turkey.

"I'm not dendrologist, but I know one," Grissom said with satisfaction.

Sara took off her rubber glove and let it snap. "Of course you do," she said.

On her way out she tossed them in the trash. She walked down the hall, hands in pockets, until she reached the restroom. She braced her hands on the porcelain sink and looked at her own face, glad that it was still attached. She took off the blue scrubs and tossed them in the trash. The scrubs nowadays were paper and were annoying. On her way out she bumped into Grissom, who was standing just outside the door.

"Sorry," she said as she tried to step around him.

Grissom put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. His cool blue ones always had a way of making her feel small.

"What did I do now?" he asked, using his annoyed voice.

Sara shrugged him off. "This isn't the place for this. I'll see you back at the lab," she said as she walked towards the exit.

0~0

Back in the car, Sara was able to think privately. She thought that it was always easier to think when you were alone and not have people looking at you. She thought about the family Shannon Andrews left behind, and she thought about her last moments. If she had been running from some unknown assailant, like Sara thought, then her last moments were horrifying. Sara knew all too well how it felt to be hunted, not in a deadly sense, but violent nonetheless. Her own father had gone on so many drunken rages, that Sara knew how to hide. She could recall the moments when he was inches from her hiding spot.

Her ringing cell phone pulled her from her thoughts. She groped for it and flipped it open. "Sidle," she said.

"Sara, Gil just told me you aren't coming in," Catherine said.

Sara wrinkled her forehead and pulled her head back. "I'm on my way now," she said.

Sara looked in her rearview mirror and caught a glimpse of a black Sedan. It had extra antenna, like a patrol car, and the windows were tinted.

"He just called and said you need a personal day," Catherine explained. "Look, I don't know what's going on between you two, but it doesn't look right if your supervisor calls in a day off for you. Besides, you already _had_ the day off,"

Sara laughed a little laugh. "Thanks," she said.

"Are you coming in?" Catherine asked.

"I'm on my way," Sara replied.

After Sara had hung up, she saw Grissom's car driving past. She clenched her teeth and stepped on the accelerator, roaring past him. She pulled into a parking lot and he followed. She thought he had a lot of nerve calling a day off in for her after he was the one who asked her to come in.

Grissom was out of his car first. "Road rage is a killer," he said.

"Why are you doing this to me? Are you trying to confuse me?" she asked.

Grissom scratched his beard. "I just thought you needed a break," he said.

The breeze blew Sara's hair in front of her eyes and she pushed it back. "I don't need one. I would appreciate it if you didn't do that again," she said.

Grissom nodded. "Fine. You just look tired and I brought you in on a day off and now you don't want it," he said.

Sara let her head thump on the steering wheel and the horn beeped. Grissom squatted down until he was level with her.

"Look, I'm trying," he said. "I'm not good at this. Just want you to tell me what's wrong and let me fix it."

"I don't know," Sara said honestly. "I am annoyed at everything. I guess I just…"

In all honesty, Sara didn't exactly know what she was annoyed at. She wanted to pin it on Mother Nature and the curse of womanhood, but that would be an easy way out. Grissom was a good man and was very good to her.

"I know it isn't fair to do this, but I just want to be left alone. I was alright with Nick working with me, but with you it's like I have to behave. That gets to me sometimes," she said.

Grissom nodded. "So you don't want your supervisor breathing down your neck," he said.

Sara tried to come up with a better excuse, but what he said summed it up. "Sorry," she offered.

"It's fine," he said. "I think the rest of the team feels the same sometimes. I just thought you were different."

"Gil," she said. "I am different. We have something the others don't have. Well, something I _hope_ you and the others don't have. Everyone needs some breathing room. Don't you want to be able to hear your own thoughts sometimes?"

"Well, I am always alone in my office. I guess you never really have alone time," he said.

Sara shook her head. "I guess not," she said.

"Then go take your day off. I'll come by later, but if you want to be alone then just call me. You have changed a lot since we started going together and I don't want to see you have a breakdown," he said.

Sara leaned over and kissed him. It wasn't as passionate as they usually were, but enough so to let him know she cared about him. She always relished the feel of his beard on her face and the way he smelled.

"Okay," she agreed.

Now that she had her day off back, Sara stopped by the deli to get her favorite supper. The owner knew her by name and she always asked for the usual: veggie burger and potato soup. She never stayed to eat at the deli, but brought her food back home so she could eat in the peace and quiet of her living room. On the drive back she glanced in her rear view mirror to the see the familiar Sedan following, it's headlights off.

0~0

On an impulse, he had followed the woman investigator. He saw that she liked to eat healthy, which was a plus for hunting. He had his laptop in the car with him and when the woman stopped for a light, he ran her license plate through the police database. Of course the software wasn't legal, but who would know?

"Sara Sidle," he said as he read.

The brunette's name was Sara Sidle and from her birth date, he calculated that she was thirty-something. She lived nearby in a secluded apartment complex that was usually reserved for people who made a handsome paycheck. It said that she had near misses with a DUI, but that wasn't an issue. He followed her a little more and watched as she turned into the parking lot of her apartment. He pulled along the shoulder and watched as she made her way back to the last row of apartments. It was good that she lived in the back, just in case he wanted to surprise her.


	2. a thrill that couldn't be passed up

When Sara had pulled into her parking space she looked for the Sedan, but it was gone. Satisfied, she gathered her food and headed towards her apartment. On the doorstep sat a white box from FedEx. She unlocked the door, set her things down, and went back for the box. She shook it and something heavy thudded inside. She selected out a knife from the dish drainer and opened it. She pulled out a piece of tissue and there she saw the text book she had been waiting for.

"Alright!" she said with delight.

The book was _Chemical Physics_ and was recommended by her favorite scientist, besides Grissom. She flipped open the book and saw diagrams of structures and new mathematical calculations. She set it aside for lather and kicked her shoes off. If there was one thing to relaxing, it was contained in a tiny bottle of lavender shampoo. She turned on the water, peeled the rest of her clothes off, and stepped into the shower. The warm water rushed down her back and soaked her hair; nothing was more comforting at the moment. For a second she had the nerve to call Grissom. Whenever they showered together, Grissom had a technique to putting her at ease. With his hands, he would later her back with soap and gently message. His hands were so big that he need not apply much pressure. Just the thought of his hands on her excited her, and she spent more time than she had intended to in the shower. Afterwards, with her towel wrapped snugly around her, she padded into the living room to enjoy her supper. As she ate she pulled her book into her lap. Soon the combination of comfort and good food made her eyelids heavy. She set the book down and curled up to fall asleep.

0~0

At the same time, he came home. He put away his briefcase and turned on his shower. Part of him couldn't help but wonder if she was doing the same thing. He stepped under the spray and the day washed away. He washed away his careless mistake of hunting beside Lake Tahoe and he washed away the fatigue that came with his job. He helped people for a living, and it was a job he took seriously. He never mingled his personal life with his work… that would introduce risk. As he soaped up he thought of her brown silken hair, wet from her shower. He thought of her curling up with a book or a television show. Was she the kind of woman that enjoyed soaps or documentaries? Maybe one day he would find out. The many thoughts of his new brown-haired beauty inspired him to turn the water cold and he quickly ended his shower. He knotted a towel at his waist and went to sit at his computer. He pulled up the database for the Department of Motor Vehicles and typed in her name. A dozen Sara Sidles came up, but he recognized her address and clicked on it. If there was one thing he could count on the DMV for, it was driver's license pictures. She had a few in her life, in each one she looked like more of an angel. When she was younger her cheeks were too fat, but now that she was older she would be firm in just the right places and softness would still be there. He also admired her freckled face. He had trophies that he thought were one of a kind. He had ones that were tan and toned, and ones that were cute and harmless. Sara's face looked serious and sexy to him. She had freckles across her forehead and the bridge of her nose. She had dramatic eyebrows and a tiny mouth that suited her. From her driving record he could see that she was from San Francisco and wasn't married. Her brown eyes were soft. He imagined them full of fear as he took her to the desert and hunted her. Seeing her freckled face up close made him want her. He wanted her underneath him, begging for her life. At the end, Shannon Andrews hadn't begged. She had given up and had welcomed the sweet release of death. He had watched her from a distance and then ambushed her coming out of a grocery store. When he closed his eyes, he could remember the slender woman carrying two brown grocery sacks.

"Can I help you?" he had asked.

Shannon appeared a little nervous. "I can manage," she said as she balanced the bags to unlock the door.

The sun had set hours ago and the mask of darkness was welcoming. With a friendly laugh he took a bag and waited while she unlocked the door. Looking in the bag, he saw that she had a box of cereal and other treats for a young person.

"Have a kid?" he asked.

Shannon nodded. "Yeah, I have a son," she said with a smile.

"Your husband should be out with you. Let me guess, home with the little tyke," he said.

As the two spoke he found the exact moment to spring. She had been unaware of his intentions, and that was what happened when someone let their guard down. He had covered her mouth firmly with his hand and, with the help of ether, she had been unconscious in a matter of moments. Cautiously, he looked around. When he was satisfied that his movements would be undiscovered, he drug her to his Sedan. For her car, he had tipped off the owner of a chop shop. For her, he had driven to the mountains beside Lake Tahoe.

0~0

Sometime during the night, Sara had discarded her towel and moved to her bed. The cool sheets were a comfort to her hot skin. She was so relaxed that she didn't hear the phone ring when Grissom called. He didn't call back, but instead he keyed into her apartment an hour later. On the coffee table he found the remains of her supper and her text book. He threw the garbage away, but took a moment to flip through the text book.

"Sara," he called to the quiet apartment.

He took off his jacket and laid it on her mustard colored sofa. The towel she had discarded lay at his feet. He picked it up and smelled it. His mind was filled with visions of him making love to her in the shower. It smelled of lavender and potato soup. He tossed the dirty towel into her hamper and peeked into the bedroom to see her lying in the middle of the bed. She wasn't uncovered, but he could tell from her silhouette that she was naked. Quietly, he toed his shoes off and took his pants off. Sara turned her head and Grissom was amazed how beautiful she was when she slept. He unbuttoned his shirt, made his way over to the bed, and gave Sara a nudge. It took a few nudges to wake her up, but she slid over to make room for him to climb into bed. He pried some of the blanket away from Sara and she cuddled into him.

"How was your night?" she asked groggily.

Grissom kissed the top of her head. "It was slow tonight. I made an appointment with my friend at the university," he said.

Sara smiled. "A plant expert, I assume," she said.

"Yeah," Grissom replied. "Sorry I woke you."

"I'm sorry I was a bitch earlier. Don't be sorry you woke me up," she said.

"Why is that?" he asked.

0~0

Later that afternoon, after lunch and other necessary recreation, Sara and Grissom went and met with Dr. McNeil at West Las Vegas University. McNeil was a lot younger than Grissom, but in Sara's opinion he wasn't as handsome. Grissom gave him the splinters and McNeil examined them.

"When I get them under the microscope I can tell you more," he said, taking the container of splinters deeper into the lab. "By the color and pattern I can guesstimate what kind we have here. Now it isn't going to be spot on, I would need a bigger sample for that."

McNeil opened the container and selected one of the little bags that were inside. He placed it gently on a slide, dropped a bit of solution on it, and slid it under the microscope. He adjusted the eye piece and nodded.

"What is it?" Sara asked.

"Take a look," he told her with a smile.

Sara looked into the eye piece and saw a close-up view of the splinter that was found in one of Shannon Andrews' arms.

"Can you tell me what I'm looking at?" she asked, puzzled.

"Well," Dr. McNeil said. "At first glance I thought it was pine, but this splinter is from a fir tree."

Sara nodded. "Only the white and red firs grow near Lake Tahoe. Since the red fir grows closer to Vegas, I'll go with red. Shannon was from Vegas and it makes more sense," she said.

Grissom had the other slide prepared and McNeil slid it into place. Grissom wrote 'Red Fir' on the red fir and slipped it back into the container.

"This one is, without a doubt, Mountain Adler. It grows next to streams or rivers," McNeil said. "I'm afraid this stuff grows all over the mountains around Lake Tahoe. It'll be impossible to narrow it down without bigger samples."

Sara pursed her lips. "What else can we do?" she asked Grissom.

Grissom thought about this. They had hit a dead end, that much was certain. He looked at Sara and sighed. He didn't want to tell her they had nothing else, but that was all he could say.

0~0

Back at the lab, Sara sat with what little evidence they found. She had the crime scene photos spread out before her and she had the black trash bag in a sealed evidence bag. They hadn't found anything on the garbage bag. Like she had feared, the water had washed any evidence away. She pulled a picture closer to her and sighed. This picture was a close-up of the faceless corpse. Sara looked the body up and down. She stopped and grabbed the magnifying glass.

"Grissom," Sara gasped.

Sara hurried down the hall towards his office. She passed by Warrick and Nick who we busy carrying a dummy down the hall.

"Sara," Warrick called. "Can you give us a hand with this?"

Sara didn't answer. She rounded the corner to Grissom's office and shut the door. Grissom looked up at her and picked up a piece of newspaper to show her.

"What is sixty-one down?" he asked.

Sara stopped. "What?" she asked.

Grissom showed her the newspaper again. "Sixty-one down," he repeated.

Sara read the crossword and smiled. "Ineluctable," she said.

Grissom looked again and smiled. "I see it now," he said.

Sara dropped into the seat across from his desk and sighed loudly. Grissom looked up and took off his glasses. To Sara, he looked like a school teacher about to scold. It made him unbelievably attractive.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

Sara showed him the picture and handed him the magnifying glass. "She is missing an earring," she said.

Grissom licked his lips and sat back. "I don't think we can comb the bank for a tiny earring," he said.

Sara shrugged. "Give me time. All I need is a metal detector and Greg," she said.

"Those two aren't hard to find. One is in the garage and the other is in the break room," he said.

Sara smiled and almost hugged him.

0~0

"Tell me why I came to help you again?" Greg asked as he walked along the banks of Lake Tahoe with Sara.

Both Sara and Greg had metal detectors and were scanning the area for the earring. It beeped a few times, but the results were always disappointing.

"Because I'll buy you breakfast," Sara said.

Greg nodded. "Good reason," he said. "Maybe I'll get the steak and eggs."

"Greg," Sara said as she swept her detector around a tree. "You can have a whole damn cow."

Greg laughed and kept scanning the area that Sara told him to scan. Truth be told, he would do anything for Sara. She was the one who believed in him and helped him through all his problems with becoming an investigator. Once he had liked her in a romantic sense, but he was sure she had the a romantic interest in Nick. Just then Greg's detector went off and Sara hurried over to see what had been found. She got her knees with a flashlight and pawed around in the dirt. Finally, she lifted up a sliver earring.

"If we were out here looking for your jewelry then I would have asked for two cows," Greg said with a smile.

0~0

This broad was more determined than he had thought. He was careless with the jewelry that Shannon Andrews wore, but he didn't suspect anyone would look for it. The thought of this woman hunting him sounded like a game. It was a game of wits that he would win, and she would know she was the looser when she was running through the desert, screaming screams that fell silent. He had decided to hunt her against his better judgment. Half of him told him that she would overpower him or that he would get caught, but the other half told him that hunting her would be a thrill that couldn't be passed up. For now, he would let her play around and hunt him. He thought back to the other women, all of them had been the same, really. He had picked them all out on the street or in a grocery store. He had brought them all back to the same place, but something about this Sara Sidle promised to be different. Something about her told him that she had raised the bar that measured all his other future victims.

0~0

Sara drove back to the lab in a rush. Greg sat in the passenger seat, clinging to the arm rest and wondering if Sara needed a mental evaluation. Grissom had called in a team to tape off where the earring had been found, but she had taken it upon herself to log it into evidence.

"Sara, do you want to log us or the earring into evidence," Greg said.

Sara slowed the Explorer. "Sorry," she said.

On instinct, Sara looked in her rear view mirror and saw the same black Sedan that she had seen the previous day. Sara stopped for a red light and looked back at the Sedan.

"Greg, do you see that Sedan behind us?" Sara asked.

Greg looked back. "Yeah, it looks like a hearse," he said.

Sara chewed her lip. "I'm going to try to lose him. I have a bad feeling," she said.

Sara never was a person who raced on the road, but this time she peeled out as soon as the light turned green. Greg gripped the armrest tighter, but Sara only clenched her teeth and drove. After a while she slowed and turned onto Second Street.

"Is he back there?" Sara asked.

Greg looked again. "No, but I am pretty sure you lost the pavement too. Sara, I think I need to let you watch that driving video that is shown to high school kids," he said.

Sara brushed off his remarks. "I saw that car yesterday," she said.

0~0

After Sara had peeled out, he took a turn onto another street and headed to her apartment to see if she would come home.

"She knows," he said to himself.

The next day he wouldn't take the Sedan, but the Buick that he kept as a spare car. He usually rode in the Sedan when he hunted at night, but for daylight he needed something more inconspicuous. He didn't want the doe to know that she was being hunted just yet.


	3. It's the boyfriend's car

Sara had hit the jackpot. The DNA on the earring matched Shannon Andrews. Sara recruited Greg once again to help her look for any signs of a chase through the woods. She knew that it was probably useless; a family on vacation could have contaminated any evidence for sure. In total they had logged in so many hours that the both of them were now in overtime.

"Would you find it easier to run downhill if you were being chased?" Sara asked as they carefully walked around the area that the earring had been found.

"I would have been running all over this mountainside. There is no way we will be able to find anything else, Sara," Greg said.

Sara set her jaw, "If we just push a little harder we will find something," she said.

"Come on," Greg said. "I know this was a horrible crime and that this person needs to pay for what they did, but I am running on empty. I need to sleep and eat."

Sara agreed reluctantly. "I hate to quit," she said.

Greg walked up beside her and patted her on the back. "Don't look at it like that," he said. "Think of it as a challenge. You know; when a door closes a window opens."

"Thanks for the deep conversation," Sara joked.

Greg shrugged. "What? You think just because I handsome I can't think like Grissom," he joked.

"I just don't want to give up on her," Sara admitted.

"Something will happen. You always get your man," Greg said.

0~0

Grissom walked down the hallway and stopped when he saw Sara out of the corner of his eye. For two weeks the case of Shannon Andrews had been her top priority. He didn't want to pull Sara off of it, but he knew it wasn't getting anywhere. The earring had been found and it was proved that it did belong to Shannon, but nothing else had happened since. They were unable to locate her car, find suspects, or even narrow down the last hours that she was alive.

"Sara," he said as he pushed open the door to the break room.

She looked up and smiled. "I think I have something. There is this broken branch of this pine tree-"

Grissom held up his hand and cut her off. "Sara," he said with regret. "I don't think this is going anywhere."

Sara looked at him. "So you're just going to close it?" she asked in the voice that told Grissom she was annoyed.

"No, I'm not going to close it. I just think you should work on something else and put it on the back burner. I have assignments staking up and without you we are behind," he said.

Sara ran her fingers through her hair. "I know I can find something. No one leaves behind nothing," she said.

Grissom sat down beside her. "I know you want to bring her and her family justice, but if you wear yourself out then you will burn out on this," he said.

"It's not just her family I want to bring justice to. Gil. This woman was hunted down like an animal and whoever did this has done it before. This person knew too well what he was doing and should be stopped before he does it again," she said, showing Grissom the picture of the faceless corpse.

"Sara," Grissom said taking picture and putting it down. "How many times have you looked at these?"

Sara shrugged. "Obviously I haven't looked at them enough or I would know what happened to her," she said.

Grissom said. "Sometimes we never know what happened. A lot of cases go cold and you can't think it's your fault."

"That's easy for you to say, Gil," Sara said. "You didn't have to go her home or talk to her son. You're not the one who has to go to sleep and see the eyes of that little boy"

Shannon's son was named Devon. He was eight years old and went to Henderson Elementary. When Sara sat down to talk with him, the first think he asked was when was his mother coming home.

"Devon, your mother is with you all the time," Sara said, answering the best she could.

"She should have waited for me," Devon replied.

The two were sitting in the living room of his grandparent's house. They took Devon in and were now his rightful guardians. The father hadn't been seen in years, so no one knew how to reach him.

"I am sure she wanted to," Sara said. "But she wanted you to stay here with your grandma and grandpa."

Devon picked up a crayon and began to color. "I miss my mom," he said.

These memories played in Sara's head as she tried to sleep. Her own past had already prepared her for an ordeal such as this. The night her mom murdered her dad, Sara didn't know where she had been taken. She spent that in the children's hospital and was then taken to an orphanage. Counselors came in and tried to talk to her, but the only person she wanted to see was her mother.

"Your mom is sick right now," the counselors said.

That was the level that Sara connected to Devon on. Even though she couldn't bring his mother back to him, she could make the killer pay. At the moment the lack of evidence was disappointing, but she knew that she could find this guy. If Grissom didn't want her to work on the case, then she would just have to work on it in her spare time.

"Sara, I care about you," Grissom said in a low voice. "I don't want you to wear yourself out."

Sara nodded her head. "Okay," she said. "You're the boss."

0~0

He sat across the street from her workplace and waited for her to come out. The time was four in the morning and her usual time to go get something to eat. In the time that he had been following her, he found out that she worked more than she lived. At first he was a little disappointed, but after some thought he realized that he didn't have many things stopping her from hunting her. Sometimes she went to breakfast with her co-workers, but she didn't have any other strong personal ties. He suspected there was a boyfriend. He had seen an odd BMW in front of her apartment a few times, but there was a chance it could have belonged to a neighbor. He hadn't scheduled a time to pick her up yet. Since she worked at night it would be hard to ambush her in a private place. He would either have to wait until she had a day off, or he would have to pass her up. Giving up this great opportunity would be a terrible waste. Her legs were long and made for running. He face was like a picture that he couldn't quit looking at. He wanted to look at it with the rest of his trophies. He took great care of his most prized possessions. They all have been carefully preserved and tacked to flat pieces of board. He kept them in his basement in a lighted case that he could look at whenever he wanted to be reminded of a triumphant hunt. Finally, at fifteen minutes past four, she walked to her car. He waited until she started her car and then started his own. They drove down until they reached Tropicana Boulevard and then took a left onto Second Street.

0~0

Sara glance in her rear-view mirror and wrinkled her forehead. She wasn't one to believe in coincidences, and she didn't now. She took a right onto another street and the black Sedan behind her turned as well. Quickly she decided not to eat her lunch and drove at a normal pace back to the lab. When she parked her car, the Sedan parked across the street and waited. She got out of her car and hurried back inside to find Grissom. She found him in the DNA lab with Hodges.

"Can I talk to you?" she said at the door.

Both men stopped to look at her. They were both wearing thick goggles that made their eyes big.

"What's up?" Hodges said.

"Not you," Sara said.

Hodges muttered something and turned back to whatever he was looking at.

"Yeah," Grissom said taking his goggles off.

They walked to his office, passing Nick and Warrick on the way. Nick was holding a can of gasoline and Warrick was holding a handful of bottle rockets.

"You want to help us on our arson?" Warrick asked Sara. "I'll let you start the fire."

Sara shook her head. "It sounds appealing, but I need a rain check," she said.

Nick shrugged. "Alright, but you'll miss out on seeing fireworks blow up a car," he said.

Sara turned and slipped into Grissom's office. Grissom was at his desk looking through a file. When he saw her come in, he closed it and smiled.

"What's on your mind?" he asked.

Sara took a seat in the chair opposite his desk and smiled. "I need the keys to your BMW," she said.

Grissom looked unsure. "If you're going out in the field or following a lead, you need to take one of the trucks," he said.

"I'm not. I just want to go get a sandwich and my car is… broken… it won't start," Sara said.

Grissom raised an eyebrow. "What is this really about?" he asked.

"Honestly I just want a sandwich and I didn't want to ask you in front of Hodges because he would have offered his car and his car smells like cabbage," Sara said.

Grissom sighed and opened his top drawer. He pulled out his keys and held them out to Sara. He dangled them playfully for a moment and Sara snatched them.

"I'll be back in a minute," she said with a smile.

0_0

Twenty minutes after he followed her back to her workplace, he gave up on waiting on her to emerge. Maybe she had realized that she had her own lunch in the employee refrigerator or didn't have an appetite. Whatever the case was, she was proving to be too much trouble than she was worth. He put the Sedan in gear and drove towards his own home. After a moment he turned on the radio and let the music of Chopin wash over him and he began to ease up. A quick glance in his rear-view mirror gave him a glimpse of a tan BMW following close behind. Something about it was familiar, but at the moment he couldn't put his finger on it. He slowed down and waited for it to go around him in the other lane, but it slowed too and he knew something was up. Without warning he turned sharply and hit the accelerator until the BMW was out of sight.

0_0

Sara knew that Grissom wouldn't be happy if he knew that she being risky in his car. She had pulled out through the back exit and followed the black Sedan until the driver became suspicious. She lost sight of the Sedan only minutes into the drive and she told herself that she would practice her inconspicuous tailing technique. With luck she scared the driver and she wouldn't be followed again. She drove back to the lab at a normal pace, but not before stopping to get a sandwich so she could have she proof that she did go out to get one.

0_0

He didn't go home after he lost the BMW. Instead he looped around and started to follow it. He stayed at a distance, but was close enough to tap the plate number into the DMV database on his laptop.

"Gilbert Grissom," he said to himself. "Male, mid-fifties, good driver… why are you following me?"

He followed at a distance until the BMW pulled into the drive-thru of the Veggie Hut. Then everything fell into place.

"It's the boyfriend's car," he said to himself with a smile.

Even though he was smiling, it wasn't anything to laugh about. She had gotten too close to him and this meant that it wasn't play-time anymore.


	4. Enjoy your last moments, Sara Sidle

Sara pulled Grissom's BMW back into the parking spot that was marked with a metal sign that read 'Reserved For Gilbert Grissom' on it. She thought it wasn't fair that he got his own designated parking spot, but that was the way the dice fell. She locked the car up and walked smiling back into the building. A quick glance over her shoulder told her that her stalker was gone. The better side of her brain told her to tell Grissom about her follower before she got into serious trouble, and she made a mental note to do so.

"Hey," Sara said coolly as she handed Grissom his keys. "Thanks."

Grissom returned her smile. "How about we go for breakfast after shift and we can drop your car off at the shop," he said.

Sara gulped, but kept her smile intact. "That sounds great," she said.

"Good," Grissom said. "Things have been a little busy and I have been meaning to spend more time with you."

Sara's heart sank an inch. Grissom was always honest with her, but she had lied to him about her car being inoperative. It wasn't easy working alongside the man that you loved with all your heart, but she wouldn't want anyone else to be her superior. As she walked past him, Grissom slipped a daring hand under her shirt and brushed thumb over her navel. The very touch of his fingers sent static electricity to the tips of her toes. That was the way he operated, one touch and she was pudding in his hands. Their eyes connected for a moment and they held each others gazes. In his eyes she could see everything he wanted to do and say to her.

"Sara," Greg said as he rounded the corner.

Grissom quickly drew back and turned to her as if they had been talking about a case. The hall had been clear when he had caressed her, but it was always a risk to be affectionate in the work place.

"You said you wanted to go back to the mountainside," Greg said, explaining his presence.

In that one simple statement, Sara felt her blood leave her face and she looked over at Grissom. His face had gone from loving and lustful, to stern.

"Sara, go wait for me in my office," he said calmly.

She nodded calmly and walked of, listening to Grissom give Greg a different assignment. She heard his footsteps following her and she sat down in the chair across from his desk. Without a word he stepped inside and closed the door.

"I thought I told you to give that case a rest," he said.

"I was just going to look around one more time," she said in her own defense. "Jesus Gil, don't be like that."

"Don't be like what?" Grissom asked. "Don't be concerned?"

"Alright, I'll let it go for a little while," she said.

Grissom sighed. "Look, I want you to go home. You have months of vacation days on the books and it's time for you to step back," Grissom said.

"Step back? As in how long" Sara asked.

"A week or two," Grissom replied, pulling out a form and filling out the top part of it.

"Are you suspending me?" she asked.

"No," he replied. "But I will if you don't take time off."

Sara couldn't believe his words. "What grounds do you have to suspend me?" she asked.

"Insubordination. I am not you boyfriend right now, I am your supervisor," he said.

Sara stood and snatched the form he had in his hand. "I get those two people confused sometimes," she spat as she turned to walk away.

"Sara…," Grissom started as she walked away.

Was she hurriedly walked to the locker room, she passed Nick and Warrick. They were carrying a fish tank that was missing fish. They both looked like they wanted to say something to her, but she hurried past before she could hear what they had to say. She threw open her locker with a loud bang and shrugged into her jacket.

"Sara," Grissom said as he walked in behind her. "If you wait a minute I'll give you a ride home."

For a moment she was confused, but then she remembered. "I'm sure it's fine to drive home. I'll take it to the shop in the morning," she said.

"I'll come by later," he whispered to her.

Sara wasn't sure what she wanted. She was still seeing red from being sent home, but she wanted him near her. She wanted him to drive her home and have rushed sex on her couch.

"Yeah," she said, calmer now then she was a moment ago. "I'll see you later."

O_O

If she thought that he was gone, then she was mistaken. He was furious at her, furious that she took away the fun and spoiled the game too soon. For some time he sat in his car, worrying about what to do. He needed to get away from her, to stop following her. But every time he closed his eyes, he saw her eyes full of fear and felt her wriggling body underneath him.

"I have to have her now," he finally decided.

He was about to pull away from his hiding spot when he saw her emerge and walk briskly to her car. There was a look of regret and remorse on her face.

"Are you going home early?" he said.

To his satisfaction, Sara started her car and pulled out onto the road. He waited a few moments before he followed her. If she was heading home, then there was no rush to follow. Daylight would soon be upon them and he would have to act fast in order to save the cover of dark. He was already dressed for a hunt: black button-up shirt, black slacks, black socks, and black shoes.

"Enjoy your last moments, Sara Sidle," he said.

0_0

Sara dropped her bag onto the counter. It made a dull thud and it seemed to echo inside the quiet apartment. With a sigh she toed her shoes off and rid herself of her jacket. A sudden wave of exhaustion swept over her and she was surprised by her sudden desire to sleep. It had been a week since she had gotten a full night's sleep and her body ached to crawl between the cool sheets. Maybe Grissom was right and she was pushing herself too far. As she walked towards the bathroom she turned her stereo on and Sheryl Crow's soft voice filtered through the speakers. Time off wasn't such a bad thing, she could read her new text book and finally organize her CD's. After a week her so, she would start back on Shannon's case with fresh eyes. Her shower was longer than usual. The hot water eased the tension from her aching muscles and warmed her to the bone. All thoughts of Shannon's faceless corpse, Grissom's attitude, and the phantom Sedan all washed down the drain and out of her mind.

0_0

In the lot, he sat in his car and waited for the lights in her bedroom to go out. He already had everything he needed for a successful capture and he wanted to be sure their first meeting was uninterrupted. Finally, her light clicked off and he counted to ten before opening the door and starting towards the main office. Picking a dead bolt was hard and time consuming. With daylight swiftly approaching, he needed to get the master key fast. In his black satchel, he had a small container of nitroglycerin. He withdrew this and sprayed a small amount onto the deadbolt of the office. With the bottom of the can he tapped the lock and it shattered. It was a loud noise and he waited a few moments before forcing the door open and locating the key. He wasn't worried about what people thought about the shattered lock. Las Vegas was a dangerous place and it would be attributed to vandalism. With the key in his hand he turned towards her building: building six. In the lobby of building six was a bank of mail boxes. Her delicate hand writing was on the last one in a long row. She wrote it in cursive and with ink. With her room number in mind, he walked upstairs to where his beauty awaited him.

0_0

Sara was in a deep sleep only moments after falling into bed. Despite her peace, something forced her to wake up. It was a sense of urgency she hadn't felt in years. Slowly she opened her eyes and looked around the dark apartment. She forced herself to stand and padded into the living room to check the locks. All locks were secure; the dead-bolt and the security chain.

"You're losing it Sidle," she said to herself. "Pretty soon the guys in white lab coats will come for you."

She put her eye to the peep-hole and looked out into the hall. She saw no eye looking back at her, just the plain boring brown wall on the other side of the hallway. With a sigh she turned and headed back to bed.

0_0

When he arrived at her door he stopped. The thought of her small, muscular body only feet from him sent a wave of pleasure coursing through him. The image of her running through the woods curled his toes more than any sexual experience ever could. Sex was one thing he never indulged in with his prey, for that would be breaking the serious predator-prey bound and the two must be separate. As he thought on all this, a thin shadow came from underneath the door. He held his breath and waited on the door to open. He closed his fist around a heavy flashlight; he would knock her out if he had to. The doorknob jiggled softly and then went still.

"My little bird knows I am here," he said to himself.

After just a few short seconds, he heard he go back to her bedroom. With his ear pressed to the door, he heard the springs on her bed sing softly as she lay back down.

0_0

The sleep that Sara found after she checked the locks was restless. She dreamed that she was back in Tomales Bay, standing just outside her parent's old boarding house. The beach and house looked untouched by time, even though she herself was a grown woman. Hesitantly she walked up the old wooden stairs and opened the front door.

"Mom," she said. "I'm here."

Her mother was in the kitchen, trying to scrub a baking sheet. Her father was sitting across the room in a recliner, his eyes glassy and his gazed fixed on her. Sara had always referred to this as 'the look' and avoided it at all costs.

"Where have you been you little smart ass?" he asked.

"It doesn't matter," she replied. "I am home."

Her father stood quickly, dropping the newspaper that had been in his lap. In his hand was a silver object. A knife.

"I'll teach you to be a little smart ass," he said as he walked towards her.

Sara wanted to move, but she was rooted to the spot. It was as if the floor had hands and it was grabbing a hold of her feet. The familiar feeling of dread and fear came over her, a feeling that she hadn't felt since she was a child. Before she knew it, he had a fistful of her hair and threw her down onto the floor like she was a doll. He straddled her and starred into her eyes.

"Everyone wears a mask," he said.

With all her might she fought and screamed. Her mother, though she was only a few feet away, did nothing. He brought the knife up to her chin and pricked her skin. Sara screamed in agony and terror as he sliced around her face with precision, and with a skillful hand peeled her skin back.

0_0

With the master key he let himself into the apartment. With the help of a bolt cutter, the security chain was easily disposed of. The inside seemed to fit her personality; feminine, but not girly. She had no photos of family on the walls or lining the bookshelf, instead she had books. Slowly his eyes adjusted to the dark. There was only one other door in the apartment, and it led him to the bedroom. It was painted the same color as the living room and the bed she slept in was a full-sized mahogany. He walked softly across the room and looked into the bathroom that was adjacent to the bedroom. There were two toothbrushes on the sink, one blue and the other pink. When he looked through the nightstand, his suspicions of a boyfriend were confirmed. She had half-empty box of condoms and a pair of a man's reading glasses there. He looked sideways at her sleeping face and carefully pulled a bottle of chloroform and a rag out of his satchel. He moistened the rag and licked his lips in anticipation. Quickly he pressed the rag to her mouth and held it tight. Her beautiful eyes snapped open and she began to struggle wildly.

"It's about time," he said to her.


	5. White paint

_White paint._

The world that Sara was familiar with was now a blurry, white snowstorm. There was no end to the blankness in front of her eyes, only the brilliant screen of white. She struggled to recall what had happened, but the only memory that came to mind was from her childhood. She had been eight at time and her father was in an unusually good mood. He gave Sara and her brother the can of white paint and told them to paint the fence out front from one end to the other. Being allowed to handle real paint was something that every child dreamed of doing, but her brother had snatched both brushes and the paint can before she could blink. She followed him down the rickety, wooden stairs and up to the fence. Sara watched as he set the can down and used a screwdriver to pry the lid open.

"Get back, baby," her brother hissed, pushing her back with his hand.

Sara made a face. "Daddy said I could help," she said.

Her brother shook his head. "If you spill it on the walkway, he'll beat your little ass," he said.

Sara's small brown eyes widened. "I'm telling mom you said 'ass'," she said as she stood to run into the house.

Her brother sneered at her. "So, you said it too," and then after a few seconds. "Fine, you can paint."

Sara clapped her hands together and grabbed her brush. She watched her brother carefully and the mimicked the way he dipped his brush into the paint, tapped it on the side, and then wiped it across the boards.

"Not across, Sara. Go up and down," her brother said, running his brush in a vertical motion.

"What way does it matter so long as it gets done?" Sara asked as she continues to paint horizontally.

Without warning, her paint brush was pulled from her hand. "If you can't do it right then go back inside, baby," her brother said.

It all happened in the blink of an eye. She didn't mean to kick over the can of paint, but she hit it as she reached to get her brush back. It hit the cement with a thump that echoed in her ears and the paint spilled from it as if it were running away.

"I'm not taking the fall," her brother said, throwing the brushes down and running towards the beach.

Sara didn't run after him. Instead she stood watching the paint ooze into the grass and the street. Her father must have been watching from inside the house, because the screen-door banged open and he was running at full speed across the yard.

"Damn it you little bitch!" he thundered.

Her legs were rooted to the ground and the inside of her stomach turned to jelly. With a strong arm he picked her up and turned back to head back into the house. Although her ears heard nothing, she distinctly remembered crying for her mother to help her. No help ever came and she had to wear jeans and long sleeved shirts to school to hide the dark blue lashes that ran down her legs. Slowly her memory faded and she became aware that she couldn't move. Everything came back in a wave of feelings.

_There was a man in her apartment. _

Slowly the snow storm faded and she saw a man dressed in black going through her dresser. Her first instinct was to scream, but her mouth was gagged with what felt like a wash cloth and duct tape prevented her from spitting it out. She was sitting upright in one of her wooden chairs. When she moved the old wood creaked, giving her away. Her attacker straitened up and turned to her. He was dressed all in black, and in a way reminded her of a sleek panther.

"I was hoping you wouldn't sleep long," he said in an eerily soothing voice. "Darkness is wasting."

Sara blinked into the bright room and cursed him through her gag. He was the man in the black sedan, she was sure of it. Had her following him been the final straw?

"I have been waiting on seeing you for a while now," he said, stroking her check with a black, gloved hand.

Sara pulled back and glared. The feel of his hands were sickening to her. She struggled with her restraints, but it was all in vain.

"Your first instinct is going to be to fight or flee," he said as he piled some of her clothes into a black suitcase. "But I'm telling you now that neither idea will work. I don't want to kill you here, but I will if you leave me no other option."

Sara's bare toes curled into the carpet and she blinked back tears. This wasn't the way she imagined that she would die, not at the hands of a mad man. She adverted her eyes from his and looked questioningly at the suitcase.

"Oh, you are wondering about the suitcase?" he asked as he zipped it close. "I think its best if everyone thinks you left town. I don't want anyone asking too many questions."

Sara pulled at her arms to test their resistance, but the ties were tight. He had used her jacket to restrain her; zipping up the front and knotting the arms in the back.

"We are going to get started now, Sara. First you need to promise me that you won't try to get away. I know that the urge will be irresistible, but I will kill you," he said. "Do you intend to be sensible?"

At first she hesitated, but slowly she nodded. It was the only way to answer him. Her mouth was starting to get parched from the wash cloth and the tap was irritating her.

"Good," he said. "Sit tight."

He pulled a gun out of the waistband of his pants and gathered her suitcase, purse, and her shoes. He left the apartment and for a moment, she thought she had a chance. She tugged on the arms sleeves of the jacket and looked around for something to cut herself free with. She tried to stand, but her head swam with nausea and she nearly blacked out. The door to the apartment opened back up and he walked over to pull her to her feet.

"We are going for a little ride. It won't take long," he said as he led her out of her apartment, the gun pressed to her back.

They walked down the stairs and out into the cool, night air. In the city that never slept, Sara wondered how someone in her building wasn't outside or roaming the halls. They walked over to his black sedan, where he set her in the front seat and secured the lap belt. With a last burst of energy, Sara struggled.

"There's the flight or flee instinct that will get you killed," he laughed as he slammed the door in her face.

She watched helplessly as he walked around to the driver's side door and slid behind the wheel. There was a motion of the car reversing, and they pulled out onto the road.

0_0

Ten miles away from the city, he could see day breaking on the horizon. A little daylight did not frighten him any, for he still had time to play with his new treat. He had _Carmen _on full blast coming through the speakers and they were just getting to his favorite part; the _Habanera. _With one hand he pulled the gag off her mouth and she yelped as the tap was stretched and pulled away. Immediately she started to cough and gasp mouthfuls of air. He thought that she was truly more beautiful than any of her pictures and well built. She was wearing a small pair of shorts, probably her boyfriend's favorites, and a thin white shirt. The fact that she wore no bra did not affect him, but if she hadn't been prey then he would have made it a point to make love to her.

"Let's talk." he said to her.

Sara spat. "I don't have anything to say to you," she said.

He shrugged. "I'm the last conversation you are ever going to have," he said. "Take advantage."

Her face was firmly set and he could see her mind working. "You killed Shannon," she said finally.

"I didn't kill her," he said, taking his eyes from the road to look at her. "I set her free. I showed her who she truly was."

"That's bull shit." Sara said. "You murdered her. If you think you're going to kill me and get away with it, then you have another thing coming."

"And who would know?" he asked. "I don't know you well, but I know you enough to where I know you didn't tell anyone about me."

"You don't know anything about me," Sara said.

"Soon enough I will know all about you," he said.

0_0

He wanted her to participate in a conversation with him, but it wasn't easy when you knew your death was waiting just around another bend in the road. Sara tried to make a note of all her surroundings, just in case she was able to get away.

"You're not taking me to Lake Tahoe?" she asked.

"Lake Tahoe was an accident," he explained. "I prefer the deadly stretch of desert for a good hunt."

Sara was annoyed. "I'm not an animal," she spat.

"Oh, but we are all animals," he said to her. "We are all basic want, what we desire. Take your boyfriend for an example, he is with you because of an animal desire that he can't control."

Sara grew silent and shed a tear for Grissom. If her life ended tonight, he would be heartbroken. Of course if this man was right, it would look like she skipped town. He probably would look for her though, Grissom was smart.

"You don't know him like I do," she whispered.

The car turned onto an unmarked, unlit dirt road and Sara's heart sank. They were miles away from anybody, so no one could hear her scream. It had been a long time since she had felt true fear, which had been in the presence of her father. When stopped the car, some miles down the dark road, he turned to her.

"I'm giving you a chance," he said as he unbuckled his belt and pulled a black satchel out of the back seat. "The same chance I gave the others. You will have a ten minutes head start, no more and no less."

Sara's lip quivered, but she was willing to take that chance. She was a fighter and she didn't live through one hell of a life for nothing. If there was any silver lining to this bleak, black cloud, it was that she had a chance. He opened his door and climbed out. As he passed in front of the car, she noticed that he shielded his eyes away from the headlights, in order to preserve his night vision. He opened the door to her car and pulled her up out of her seat. The cool air chilled her skin and she shivered. He untied the arms of the jacket and unzipped it, exposing her to the cold. His gaze locked on her chest for a moment and she crossed her arms.

"Take a look around at your final resting place, Sara," he said.

"Stop saying my name," Sara hissed.

"Why?" he asked, cocking his head.

Sara didn't answer. Instead she looked back towards Las Vegas. The bright lights could still be seen and in the west the sun was rising.

"Maybe you'll get lucky," he said. "Maybe you'll make it out of her somehow and back to your apartment. You'll be back in your boyfriend's arms and you won't have to think about this ever again."

Sara looked at him point blank in the eye. "Or maybe I won't," she said.

A sickening smile formed on his face. "Or maybe you won't," he said. "You have miles of open space. No houses or roads nearby. This morning you are going to be one of the many animals hunted."

"I won't look where you run and after ten minutes, I'll track you. I only use my pistol, no fancy equipment. I prefer the old fashioned way," he said as he walked around to the driver side door to get something.

Sara felt the impulse to run, but that was just what he wanted. The minute she was gone, the clock would start. There were miles of desert and a body could get tired after ten minutes of running. Not to mention she was barley dressed and without shoes.

"Whenever you're ready," he said as he came around to her.

Anger was the only thing Sara thought, and anger was her motivation. With all her might she lifted her knee and it met his groin. He reacted the way Sara had hoped, letting out a whoosh of air and bending over. It was then that Sara decided to run, but not before he grabbed her around the waist and forced her to the ground. The struggled there for a while, his body so much heavier than hers. With her fingers she groped at his eyes, hoping to hurt him. With one motion he over powered her, forcing her on her stomach and face into the dirt.

"That's enough!" he barked.

Sara breathed deeply. Her head hurt and her lungs burned. "Alright," she said, putting her hand on the passenger seat to stand. "You win."

"Now get up," he said to her.

Slowly she got to her knees, hands on the leather seat. Her fist closed around the silver lap belt and with her strength she flung the strap. The metal prong connected with his nose and she quickly groped for anything that would help her. Between the seats sat a black satchel, she put her hand inside and fumbled around, hoping for a gun or knife. She was yanked back, but she held onto the steering wheel, praying for some divine intervention. Her hand closed over a canister and she pulled it out and aimed it at him. He had his gun out and trained on her, it was black and dangerous looking. She hit the nozzle's button and a hiss of mist sprayed out. He shouted and covered his eyes with a gloved hand. The atmosphere around her turned icy cool. She pumped the trigger harder, aiming for his eyes.

"You son of a bitch!" she yelled, kicking him in the ribs.

The spray from the canister stopped. Sara pressed the trigger, but nothing happened. He aimed his gun at her, with their distance he had a clear shot. There was nowhere for her to run, she had fought, but she had lost. She waited for the bang, but nothing happened.

The gun was frozen.

"You asshole," she yelled, kicking him again.

She wanted to kill him, kill him for killing Shannon and attempting to kill her. He struggled to rise, but Sara was quick. She climbed into the passenger seat of the car, securing the lock and positioning herself behind the steering wheel. She turned the key and the engine roared. He lurched onto the hood of the car, the frozen gun still in his hand, and shouted at her through the window.

"I'll find you, Sara," he said. "I'll find you!"

Sara hit the accelerator and drove off into the dessert. The man flew off the hood and rolled. Sara didn't stop to see where he was, she just drove through the desert to the bright lights of Las Vegas.


	6. She had taken it

"Must have been one hell of a night for you,"

It took Sara a moment to register what the truck driver was saying to her, but she nodded. She knew that he was sizing her up as a scared, strange woman. She was wasn't wearing shoes and probably looked like shit. The only item she had with her was a black satchel.

"Where am I taking you?" he asked.

There were so many thoughts racing through her head at that moment, that she didn't know where she wanted to go. The only face that made her feel safe belonged to Grissom. Of course he would call the police and together they would make it through this. If he had come by her apartment after shift, then for sure he would have noticed that she was gone. Perhaps he was waiting for her at home.

"Home," she answered.

The driver looked at her, expecting more of an explanation as to why she was in the state that she was in, but he didn't push it. Instead he turned up the heat and grabbed a blanket from the back seat.

"Here," he said as he handed it to her. "We have ten minutes until we get to Vegas. Where do you live?"

"Point View apartments," she answered, taking the blanket and covering up with it.

The driver wrinkled his forehead, but nodded and continued to drive. Sara knew he was wondering why such a disheveled looking woman could live in such a normal place, but in Vegas anything was possible. She didn't care to fill him in on what happened, nor would she. The weight of the satchel in her lap brought her back to reality, and she opened it up. Inside she saw a roll of duct tape, a small flashlight, a suction cup, hunting knife, a bottle of chloroform, a white wash cloth, and a black pouch that held small locksmith tools. She took out the knife and pulled it from its sheath. It was stained with blood; Shannon's blood. She put the knife back and dug deeper until she found a spare clip for his gun. She also had the ignition key to the black sedan. This satchel was what she needed to put him behind bars for the rest of his life. The death penalty would be too good for him.

"_I'll find you," _he had promised.

Slowly she closed her eyes and leaned her head back. She had survived… beaten the odds. If the odds hadn't been in her favor, then she would have been a faceless corpse right now. She would have only spent minutes running before he found her. The truck began to slow and Sara opened her eyes to see that she was home.

"Here you are, Ms…." The driver said.

"Thank you," she replied, opening the door and climbing out.

"Lady," he said. "I don't know what's wrong… but just know that whenever you need help that you're not alone."

At first, Sara didn't know what to say. Then she smiled and nodded to the man; it was always the random acts of kindness that made things look brighter, no matter how dreary they were.

"You're right," she said.

0_0

Sara hurried to up to her apartment, hoping to see Grissom standing in her living room. When she tried to open the door, it was locked. Having no key, she ran to her car. She kept a spare key in a magnetic box, something that Grissom convinced her to do.

"You never know," he had said.

The inside of her car was a welcome. She never thought that she would relish the fill of the seat under her rear end. Being alive made her want to do so much, but before that she had to find this asshole before he found her.

0_0

It was morning before he found the car. He had underestimated her and her strength, and because of his stupidity she got away. In his wallet he carried a duplicate key to the sedan. He unlocked the doors and looked inside, hoping she would be in the back asleep. Of course she wasn't... she wasn't stupid. He walked around the car and checked all the tires. All were useful, but one was flat and the rim was bent. She must have kept driving on it until she saw the road and ran to get a ride. For a moment, he had the idea that she was still waiting, but a beautiful woman like Sara would have been picked up. In the trunk he kept another tire and a jack, he used them to change the tire.

"You can run, but you can't hide from me," he said as he slid behind the wheel.

He looked in the passenger seat and an uneasy feeling swept over him. He glanced in the back, looking for his kit. She had taken it.

"Fuck," he said. "Fuck fuck FUCK."

0_0

She pulled into the lot beside Grissom's car and hurried up to his door. He answered in his sweats, but looked relieved to see her. Before he could speak, she collided into him, wrapping her arms around him. The tears that she had been holding back broke through their barrier and spilled down her cheeks.

"Where have you… what happened!" he asked, taking in the sight of her.

It was now that Sara began to tremble, her body went cold and she rubbed her arms. "I… I… I was sleeping… and…" she stuttered.

Grissom led her over to the couch and draped a throw over her. "Calm down," he said as he rubbed her shoulders. "You're in shock."

Sara nodded, but her trembling grew worse. A knot in the pit of her stomach tightened until her stomach hurt ferociously. Grissom left her side and went into the kitchen.

"I… I… I was sleeping… and I woke up..." Sara tried to say.

Grissom brought a cup of warm tea over to her and Sara drank it greedily. It went down her throat and warmed her to the tips of toes. The cup was warm in her hands and made her feel a little better.

"I went straight to your place after shift," Grissom said. "You weren't there. I called and called, but you never answered. What happened?"

When he had seen the empty apartment, he immediately started to worry. Sara didn't do much after her shifts and when he said he was coming over, she was always there waiting. Now she was sitting on his couch, falling apart in front of his eyes.

Sara took a deep breath and started again. "I was sleeping and when I woke up, there was someone in my apartment. He had tied me up and I knew it was the man who had been following me," she said.

She looked at Grissom's face and saw that the blood had left it. His blue eyes looked angry. "Followed?" he asked.

Sara nodded without looking at him. "Ever since Shannon's body was found, I have been followed," she said.

"Sara, why didn't you tell me? I wouldn't have let you be alone," he said.

Sara's lip trembled. "I don't know." She said. "I thought I could take care of it."

"Tell me what happened," he said as he pulled her into him.

0_0

The missing satchel was a serious problem for him. In it was everything that could end his game and take away his freedom. He had driven to her apartment first, but her car was gone. He knew she wouldn't have been there, but he was hoping that she would get stupid. If he had to, he would flee to the nearest Indian reservation in Arizona and quietly leave the country. He had all the necessary information and he could start the game up again somewhere else. Aimlessly he drove down the strip, racking his brain for an idea. Even though it was early morning, the tourists were out casino-hopping. His anger and hatred for Sara Sidle was so much that only visions of torturing her kept him under control. Just then it him; there was a boyfriend. Quickly he pulled his laptop close, brought up the history, and looked for the license plate for the BMW. He found it, read the address, and turned onto Second Street.

0_0

"After that I ran," Sara said through her tears. "I ran to the road and was picked up by a truck driver."

Grissom didn't know what to say, he was completely shocked by the story Sara just told him. The image of a man hunting her like she was an animal angered him beyond all belief. He didn't want to believe everything she just told him, but he did.

"I'm calling Jim," he said, grabbing the phone. "I want you to tell him everything you told me."

Sara nodded and pulled the throw closer. It would take more than word-of-mouth to put this guy behind bars. Just then it dawned on her; the satchel.

"The satchel!" Sara said, leaping off the couch and jumping over the coffee table.

"Wait, honey," Grissom said, hanging the phone up. "What satchel? "

"It's his kit," Sara explained. "I took it out of his car. It has everything in it, including a knife with dried blood. I think it is Shannon's."

Grissom took his jacket off the hook and helped Sara into it. "Let's get it," he said.

0_0

He pulled into the lot and scanned the cars, looking for her car. It was already decided that he would kill them both to get the satchel back. It was something he was itching to do. He would cut the boyfriends throat first and watch as Sara reacted. Then he would take her home and finish what he started. At the end of the lot he spotted the BMW and Sara's little green Honda beside it. Quickly he stopped the car and was out of the driver's seat in an instant. He looked in the windows and to his luck it was sitting in the passenger seat. He tried every door, but they were all locked. Sara wasn't an idiot; she locks her doors after she leaves the car. Quickly he took his jacket off, covered his elbow with it, and slammed it into the glass. It took a few hits before it shattered, and the pain was intense, but bearable. He quickly lifted the satchel, checked it, and returned to his car.

0-0

Together, Grissom and Sara hurried outside into the parking lot. Sara parked in the same place every time, so Grissom hurried ahead.

"It's in the front seat," Sara said.

When they both got to the car, they stopped. The window was busted out and the satchel was gone. Sara sank to her knees and chocked on a sob.

"It was there," she whispered.

Grissom put his hand on her shoulder. "We need to call Jim," he said. "I know it was there. I believe you."

0_0

Brass looked at Sara's busted window and nodded. "What was the time length between the time you went upstairs and the time you found the window busted?" he asked.

Sara thought about this. "Twenty minutes?" she said, looking at Grissom for help.

He agreed. "About twenty minutes," he said. "He must have been close behind her because it was fast."

Brass nodded and flipped his notepad close. "You're lucky he didn't kill you both," he said.

Sara hadn't thought about this until Brass said it. He could have been waiting on them to come down and then jumped them both. She looked back at Grissom and he put a protective hand on her shoulder. Brass noticed this and cleared his throat.

"Sara, I need you to come with me back to your place," he said. "Gil, you can come if you want to."

"Look Jim," Grissom started. "Sara and I-"

Brass waved it off. "A little office romance is the least of my worries. My lips are sealed, but don't take this to mean I'm covering for anybody."

0_0

Brass did his best. It was a far-fetched Story, but Sara wasn't a liar. The only evidence of a break-in was in the manager's office. The lock had been shattered; like it had been made out of glass. One thing that was very convincing was that Sara's security chain was gone.

"Was somebody perhaps doing maintenance on Sara's door?" Brass asked the manager.

The manager, a large man with a bald spot, shook his head. "No, I keep the locks and chains secure and well maintained. Sara is a quiet tenant," he said.

"So she's so quiet no one noticed her being led out with a gun to her back? Don't you have security cameras?" Brass said.

"None that watch the apartments," the manager answered.

Brass nodded and turned to Grissom. "I don't think she should stay here," he said.

Grissom agreed. "She'll stay with me," he said.


	7. I'm taking you to see Dr Clay

Since the attack, for lack of a more appropriate word, Sara had stayed with Gil. She wasn't exactly moved in, but it was obvious that she wasn't planning a return trip to her apartment anytime soon. She didn't feel safe in her own home anymore. Gil tried his best to reassure her that they would find the perpetrator, but it had been three weeks and they still had nothing. Sara lost all hope and resorted to being a recluse; sleeping all day and watching TV all night. It had never been like her to play the victim; she had always been a strong woman who had survived so much in her life already. Now she jumped at every noise, demanded that Gil install an alarm, and triple checked the windows and doors before going to bed. Gil didn't mind that Sara wanted to be with him around the clock, but when it was time for him to go to work; she clung to him like a child. The only way that he could calm her nerves was by promising to call her every hour on the hour. Her depression had gotten so dark that she barely ate, slept, or bathed. It was Brass who suggested that Gil get Sara some professional help.

"No," Gil said firmly. "She doesn't like psychiatrists"

They were in Brass's office after a long and exhausting shift. Brass had been puzzled at the way Gil picked up his phone every hour to talk to Sara. It was obvious to him that they were in love; he never doubted it would happen.

"It's not your fault, Gil," Brass said, getting up to shut his door. "She obviously is having a hard time with all this. You shouldn't let her stay like this."

Gil took a gulp of the stiff drink that Brass had set before him. "I know it isn't my fault," he paused and looked down at his glass. "Maybe it is."

Brass shook his head. "No," he said to his friend. "It's not your fault; no one knew this would happen."

Gil felt differently. "Jim, if I had been there," he said. "I wouldn't have let him hurt her."

"If you had been there," Brass said. "He may have killed you. He was waiting to get her alone; you wouldn't have been able to stop it. She got out alive and that's more than we can say for Shannon Andrews or any of the other women; Sara is a fighter."

Gil agreed. "I know she is," he said. "I just don't think she'll be too thrilled about seeing a doctor."

"Don't tell her it's for her until you get her into the car," Brass suggested. "Just say you have an appointment to keep and want her to go with you."

Brass had always been a man that Gil knew he could go to for his problems, but suggesting that he lie to Sara was odd for him. He and Sara had never lied to one another; it provoked deception and mistrust. Still, there wouldn't be any other way to get her the help she needed. Instead of the fun, energetic, and curious Sara, he was now living with a downtrodden, lowly, recluse Sara; and he didn't like it. Her brown eyes had lost their sparkle and she was growing pale from not getting out.

Gil nodded. "I'll try," he said. "I just hope she doesn't jump out of the car when I tell her."

"If she is the person I know," Brass said. "Then she wants help. She doesn't want to be like this."

"Thanks Jim," Gil said.

Gil stood up to leave, but as soon as he did Conrad Ecklie opened the door. The expression he wore told Gil that he was irritated.

"What can I do for you, Conrad?" Gil asked.

Ecklie crossed his arms. "You can tell Sara that if she doesn't get back to work next week then she's out of a job," he said.

"Well," Gil said. "Sara has plenty of vacation time stored up."

Ecklie sighed. "I knew you would say something like that," he said. "You tell her to come in or else she's fired."

0~0

Gil took Brass's advice and made an appointment with the best doctor in Clark County. He told Sara that the appointment was to renew his migraine prescription and he begged her to join him. She had been sleeping when he came in and she was still wearing the same pajamas she had on the previous night.

"Gil," Sara sighed, burying her head into the pillow. "I'm really not feeling up to it."

Gil took her by the hand and pulled her out of bed. "I think you should get out," he said. "You're losing too much weight."

Sara stepped into the bathroom and looked at her reflection. "I feel fine," she said.

Gil shook his head. "I know you're just saying that," he said. "We'll go and get a bite to eat. I know you've been missing those veggie sandwiches and soup."

Gil could tell she wanted to go; she never did like to pass up her favorite restaurant. "I have to change," Sara said after a few moments. "I don't want to make you late."

Gil checked his watch. "I have plenty of time," he said.

~0~

The drive to the psychiatrists' office was peaceful. Sara brought a book and was reading it out loud to Gil. Reading out loud was something special that they shared; it brought them closer.

"Sara, I have to be honest with you," Gil said, interrupting her reading.

Sara closed the book. "We're not going to get your prescription renewed are we?" she asked.

Gil looked surprised. "How did you know?" he asked.

Sara looked serious. "We're going in the wrong direction first off," she said, and then she added. "And seconded we just got your prescription renewed."

Gil sighed. "I just didn't think you would come with me if I told you where we were going," he said.

Sara folded her arms. "And where is that?" she asked.

Gil gulped. "I'm taking you to see Dr. Clay," he said. "He is the best Psychiatrist in Clark County."

Sara shook her head firmly. "No," she said. "Turn the car around."

Gil stood his ground. "You need to talk to someone," he said. "It isn't healthy to be like this."

"I don't care," Sara said. "You know I hate psychiatrists."

"I know you do," Gil said. "I want my girlfriend back."

Sara took offense. "Well, I'm sorry I screwed everything up," she said.

"You know I didn't mean it like that," Gil said with a sigh. "Ecklie is going to fire you if you don't come back to work. We need to fix this."

Sara held up her hands. "Then I'll just go back to work," she said. "It's not a big deal."

"Honey," Gil said taking her hand. "I want you to feel better. Do this for me. If you don't feel better after talking to Dr. Clay then we won't go back."

"You promise?" Sara asked.

Gil nodded. "I promise," he said.

O~O

He had given up all hope of seeing Sara again. Her beautiful brown hair and freckled skin was something that he saw in only his dreams now. In his mind he went over everything he did wrong: he should taken the keys out of his car, he should have kept his satchel out of her reach, and he should have taken her sooner. Going after her now would be a great risk. Not only were people on the lookout for him, but because she was staying with her boyfriend. Breaking into the condo of a man who worked for the police department wasn't the brightest idea. He felt like he did when he was a young child and he left the door to his finch's cage open. The finch flew around the room for a few minutes before escaping out an open window. He had cried to his mother about his missing pet, but all she said was that he shouldn't have left the cage door open. The only thing to do now was to help the people that needed him. He may have been a hunter by night, but by day he was a god. His place of business was The Clark County Psychiatric center and he took his job very seriously. People flocked to him for his knowledge, begging for him to give them miracle pills that would take away their pains. He also owned and operated his own institution, where a lot of his patients ended up. He was a very well respected man and did not bring his private life to work.

"Dr. Clay," his secretary, Betsy, said, opening the door to his office. "Your twelve-thirty is here."

Betsy was a large woman who worshiped and adored him. Clay bought her boxes of chocolates on holidays and allowed her as much time off as she requested. He honestly didn't need a secretary; he was a well organized man.

Clay looked at his clipboard and couldn't believe his eyes. "Ms. Sidle?" he asked.

Betsy nodded. "Yes," she said. "She requested that her boyfriend sit in with her. I told her that I would have to ask you about it?"

So his little sparrow has found her way to him. Clay wasn't a believer, but fate had to have had a hand in this. It did present a problem though, how could he see her without giving his true self away? The game was still on, but this time he would have a better plan.

"What should I tell her?" Betsy asked.

Clay smiled. "Tell her that it is fine," he said.

O=O

"Gil, I don't feel right in here," Sara said, wringing the hem of her shirt.

They were sitting in the fancy waiting room of Dr. Clay's office. Sara had tried to get Gil to turn back multiple times, but he was adamant that she see a professional.

Gil took her hand. "It'll be fine," he said. "It's just going to be for an hour."

Sara rubbed her forehead. "It's just that," she said. "When I was a kid, psychiatrists were always asking me how I was feeling. All I wanted was to be left alone."

Gil put his arm around her. "I'm sorry you had to go through that," he said. "I won't let anyone make you feel threatened."

Sara leaned her head against Gil's shoulder and smiled. "You're so good to me," she said. "Sometimes I think you'd be better off without me."

"No I wouldn't," Gil said. "I'd be so lost without you."

Gil had been very calm and patient through this nightmare, waiting on her to find herself again. Sex was something they both greatly enjoyed, but since the attack they hadn't indulged. She could see that he wanted her by the way he looked at her, but he kept her distance; giving her space.

"Sara Sidle," the receptionist called.

Gil stood and tugged Sara along with him. "Come on," he said. "I'll be in there with you."

They walked towards the front and a friendly looking man extended his hand to her. Even though he wore a pleasant smile, something about him made Sara feel uncomfortable. He was a handsome man, with dark hair and pleasant eyes. In his hand he had a clipboard, he turned over a sheet of paper, read for a little bit, and then smiled at her.

"Sara," he said, in a voice that made Sara nervous. "I'm Dr. Clay."

O=O

"Everything you say in this room is confidential, Sara," Dr. Clay said.

Sara and Gil were sitting in to comfortable armchairs. Dr. Clay had offered them coffee, but they both declined.

Sara took a deep breath. "Since the attack," she said. "I've been feeling lost. I feel like my safety has been violated and no one can fix it. I don't feel safe anywhere."

Dr. Clay nodded. "Anybody who has had their lives threatened like that often feels that way," he said, and then he added. "It's important for you to know that you escaped it."

Sara chewed her lip and looked over at Gil. He offered her a helpful smile, took her hand, and nodded for her to continue. It was a comfort to have the love of her life there for her. Ready endure whatever was necessary.

"Tell me what this man means to you," Dr. Clay said, motioning towards Gil.

"He means the world to me," Sara said truthfully. "But sometimes I push him away and I know I shouldn't."

For a moment everything was silent, except for the loud ticking of the clock. Sara had always wanted to say that to Gil, but she never could. She knew he was hurt whenever she lashed out at him or turned herself away, but she couldn't help it.

"Do you know why you shut him out?" Dr. Clay asked.

Sara felt a tear escape the barrier that she was trying so hard to keep up. "Because I never had anybody like him," she admitted. "My father was never there for me and when he was, he was doing terrible things."

She had more to add, but she couldn't force the words out. There, in that room with Gil and Dr. Clay, Sara cried. She cried for her loss of innocence and safety.

"It's OK to cry about it," Dr. Clay said, handing Gil a box of tissues. "Leaving all of your anguish inside isn't healthy."

Sara agreed. "I don't trust anybody," she said.

Dr. Clay pointed his pen at Gil. "You can trust Gil," he said.

"I know I can," Sara said. "But he wasn't there."

Sara's own words hurt her and she looked at Gil, hoping that she hadn't hurt him too. She didn't mean it like it sound; the words just came out like that.

"He's sitting here now," Dr. Clay said. "Turn to him and imagine that night. Tell him every thought and feeling you had."

This was something that Sara had not been expecting. It was hard for her to put the fears of that night into words. The way Gil was holding her hand gave her the strength to try.

"Close your eyes if it helps," Dr. Clay suggested.

Sara closed her eyes and imagined the desert. "When I came home I didn't expect to be awakened by a man in a mask, I thought I would be awakened by you," she told Gil. "When he surprised me, I was confused. I didn't know what had happened."

She opened her eyes and looked at Gil. He deep, blue eyes always mirrored the very same feelings she had for him; love and respect.

"I am so sorry I wasn't there," Gil said.

Sara forced herself to continue. "I regret not telling you about being followed. I thought he was going to kill me right there," she took a tissue and whipped her nose. "I didn't know why no one noticed me being escorted out of my apartment with a gun to my back. When he took me to the desert, I thought that I wouldn't be able to tell you that I loved you again."

The look on Sara's face, her trembling lips and glistening eyes, broke Gil's heart

He wanted to put his arms around her, hold her, and tell her that he was always going to be there for her. She was everything that he needed in life and more.

"After I escaped I was afraid that he would find me. I let myself feel glad that I beat him. You were the first person I wanted to run to," Sara finished.

"I'm always going to be here for you," Gil said, giving her a small kiss.

Dr. Clay set down his clipboard. "That is enough for today," he said.


	8. Hearing his game from the prey

Hearing his game from the prey's point of view was enlightening. He was thrilled by the fact that he had succeeded in rattling such a strong woman. The boyfriend, though, looked to be a threat. He knew he must tread carefully if he was to see his angel again. Their declarations of love towards one another, though endearing, angered him. He hated to imagine him taking her home and putting his disgusting hands on her beautiful, freckled body. He wanted to be the only one that she concerned herself with. Seeing her up close and so unaware of his proximity, made him feel like a god. He was sure, for the first time in his life that he was in love. He was in love with the way she cleared her throat before the spoke, the gap between her teeth, and her luscious, smokey voice. Once before he thought he had been in love. The woman's name was Rachel, and her beauty did not compare with Sara's. She was his first true kill; his first triumph. Rachel had been confused as to why Clay was taking her life. He tried his best to explain that he was releasing her true self; he was helping her to truly live. However hard Clay tried, he couldn't make her see what she was becoming. In the end, he was disappointed with Rachel. She hadn't satisfied his need like he had hoped. The way Sara had fought him excited him and now that the game was in play again, he knew that she was what he was waiting for in his life. An idea played out in his mind and he decided that it was the best strategy. He told the couple that the prescription he handed to them was for anxiety, but it was actually a large dosage of Oxycontin. He owned his own pharmacy on sight and was able to it personally that Sara got the right bottle. She had been none the wiser as she thanked him and left.

O-O

"What do think?" Gil asked, placing his hand affectionately on Sara's leg.

They had stopped at Sara's favorite sub shop and Gil let her order whatever she wanted. She hadn't eaten much in the weeks since the attack, but he was surprised at how much she ordered and how fast she ate.

"It was OK," she said. "I felt kind of strange around Dr. Clay though."

Gil took a bite of his sandwich. "What do you mean, babe?" he asked.

Sara shrugged. "I don't really know," she said. "It it was because he was male. I think I would rather talk to a female."

Gil wanted to object, but he had to play this her way if he was going to get her healthy. If she was uncomfortable talking to a male doctor, then he would simply as Dr. Clay to assign one of his female staff members to their case.

Gil nodded. "If that's what makes you feel comfortable," he said. "Then I'll talk to Dr. Clay."

Sara smiled at him. "You're so good to me," she said.

Gil returned the smile. "I love you," he said. "I'll always be good to you."

Sara stood with their empty tray and dumped the garbage in the trash can. She gave Gil a seductive smile over her shoulder and headed towards the car. Gil followed quickly after her, he knew what every smile of Sara's meant, and that one meant that she was feeling amorous. On the drive home, Sara played coy. She gazed out the window, but occasionally locked eyes with Gil. Once they pulled into the lot, Sara opened her door and jumped out.

"Thanks for the ride," she teased, shutting the door.

Gil was out of the driver's seat in a flash, but Sara was already walking towards his door. Since she had a key, she entered and shut the door in his face. Playful Sara was rare, but when she did make an appearance, good times were promised. Gil opened the front door, ears alert, listening for Sara. Causally he kicked his shoes off and set about making a pot of coffee. Usually Sara would come out, wondering where he was, then he would grab her. When he was turned, a pair of hands fell over his eyes and Sara's Smokey voice spoke to him.

"Guess who?" she said.

"Nick?" Gil said, playing along with her.

Sara shook her head. "I'll give you a hint," Then she whispered into his ear." I want you to take your clothes off."

"Oh!" Gil said. "Sandra Bullock! How did you get in my house, Sandra?"

Sara couldn't help but laugh. "You wish!" she said, uncovering his eyes.

Sara stepped away and attempted to walk away casually. Gil took hold of her waist, burying his face in her neck and pressing her against his body; inhaling the scent of her. The smell of the woman he loved was the most intoxicating smell to him. The heat that her body omitted excited him and he thrust his hips against so she could feel how much he wanted her. .

"I caught a minx," he whispered into her ear.

Sara shrugged away from him and turned to face her lover. She crossed her arms, taking the edge of her shirt in each hand, and peeled the garment off. Gil smiled approvingly and roughly ran his hands the length of her chest; from stomach to collarbone. The feel of his rough hands on her skin always sent chills of her backbone and caused gooseflesh to breakout over her skin.

"You want me?" she teased, backing up and bumping the kitchen counter.

Gil loosened the buckle of his belt. He had wanted to foreplay with her longer, but when she teased him like this he did all he could to not explode. He pressed her into the counter and took a moment to gaze upon her pert nipples straining through her bra. He slid his hand around to her back, unclasped her bra, and pushed it aside. He wasted no time in attacking her supple skin.

"Yes!" Sara gasped, arching her back.

It had been so long since he had tasted her skin; since he nibbled her flesh. "You've missed this?" he said against her skin.

Sara gasped again and tangled her fingers into his hair. "You know I have," she said breathlessly.

She turned in his arms, stopping his delicious ministrations and bent over the counter. Gil took this as his cue to unfasten her jeans and pull her pants down to her knees. Carefully he helped her step out of them and he cast them aside. He ran his hand up her inner thigh and Sara sighed.

"You're my angel," Gil said, pressing his lips on to her calf. "You're all mine."

Sara was panting. "Just yours," she said.

Neither one of them could take it anymore. Gil stood up and freed himself from the confines of his jeans. He pressed Kisses onto Sara's back and tested her wetness. He wasn't surprised to find that she was more than ready.

"I love you," Sara said. "I love you so much."

Sara turned her head to look back at him and their lips crashed together in a passionate kiss. She slipped her tongue into his welcoming mouth and let him nibble on it. The moist heat of his mouth felt like her home. If she could, she would crawl inside his body and live; she wanted to always be part of him. When his desire became too over whelming, he pressed Sara back onto the counter. The feel of the cold, marble counter-top pressing firmly against her breasts made her squirm with anticipation. Gil positioned himself and with one fluid motion, he entered her.

O+O

Since the opening of Painted Desert Institution, there had only been one escape. The patient was a woman who had been convicted of killing her husband and lover. She used her fingers to slowly unscrew the grate over the vent, which Clay admired. It took patience to slowly work all four screws loose. She slipped out late at night after final rounds, but a nurse, who happened to be passing by, noticed her climbing up into the vent. She rang the alarm and called Clay at his home. He came immediately and joined the search for her. He found her before everyone else did, hiding in a patch of bushes near the razor-wired fence. He didn't call for backup, but simply took care of her himself. His hands around her neck seemed to fit and he hid her body in a tool shed underneath a blanket. Everyone suspected that she had escaped and only Clay knew what really happened. He kept her face with him, to remind him that his institution couldn't have any weaknesses. The room he had picked out for Sara was nearest to his office, and the same room his only escapee occupied.

O+O

Sara woke up groggily and turned her head to look for Gil. The other side of the bed was cold and empty. Sara never liked to be in Gil's bed alone; it felt too big to her.

"Gil," she said.

Gil poked his head into the bedroom. "I'm here," he said. "Are you alright?"

Sara nodded and rubbed her temple. "I just had a nightmare," she said.

Gil walked over to the bed and knelt down. "I made your favorite," he said.

Sara smiled widely. "How sweet," she said. "I'm hungry."

Gil kissed her forehead. "I'll bring it to you," he said, kissing her again. "Stay right there."

She watched him leave the room and she sighed. Her whole body ached from making love for the first time in nearly a month. It felt good to feel the man she loved all around her again. Sara rubbed her neck and felt a bruise; they had been more passionate then they had been for a while.

"Are you going in?" she asked.

"Yeah," Gil called back to her. "I'll be home early."

Sara frowned. "I wished you'd stay with me," she said.

Gil appeared with a plate and a glass of water. "I thought you were going to try to get past this," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Sara shook her head. "It's not that," she said. "I miss you. I haven't been giving you attention."

Gil chuckled. "When I come home you can give me attention," he said, and then he paused. "I've been thinking about us."

Sara was quiet for a moment. "Why?" she asked.

Gil shrugged. "I've just been thinking that it was time we moved in together."

Sara's eyes widened. "Are you sure?" she asked.

Gil nodded. "Yes," he said. "Unless you don't want to."

Sara shook her head. "I want to," she said. "I'm here more than I am at home."

"Then it's settled," he said, placing a pill in her hand. "We'll bring your things over next week."

Sara looked at the pill that Gil had placed in her hand. She didn't like medication, but she wanted to pull herself out of the pit of depression. The idea of moving in with Gil was amazing; something that she wasn't expecting him to ask for some time.

"Go on and take it," Gil said. "It'll help you feel better."

Sara popped the pill into her mouth and accepted the glass of water that Gil handed her. She took a gulp and felt the pill slip down her throat and into her stomach. She drank the full glass and opened her mouth to show Gil that she had swallowed it.

"Good girl," Gil said, kissing the top of her head.

O~~O

Sleep came quickly for Sara and the dream she had started out pleasant. She was helping her mother make a cake and she was cracking the eggs. She was a young child and in order to reach the counter she was standing on a small stool. Cracking the eggs was something that was extremely important; only grownups were allowed to crack the eggs.

"Be careful, Sara," her mother said. "Don't drop an egg shell in there."

"I won't momma," little Sara said as she tapped an egg against the bowl. "I'm being real careful."

The front door opened and Sara heard the loud thud of her father's footsteps. Though the presence of her father scared her, she also loved him. It was confusing to her because she didn't know how to act. It seemed to create within her two different personalities; one for her angry father and one for her quiet father.

"Daddy," she said when her father walked into the kitchen. "I'm cracking the eggs."

Her father ignored her and by the smell of the air, she knew not to speak to him again. He looked over her mother's shoulder at what she was cooking and gave his grunt of approval. Just as Sara was returning her attention back to her work, her elbow knocked the carton of eggs off the counter. They seemed to all drop in slow motion and hit the floor with a sickening crack. Sara felt the urge to pee and turned to run from the room.

"You little clumsy bitch!" her father yelled. "Do you think eggs grow on trees!"

Sara ran from him. She scurried up the stairs as fast as her little feet would carry her. She wished with all her heart that a guest would happen to check in. If that happened, then her father would leave her alone.

"Get your little ass back here!" he father boomed feet behind her. "Sara Sidle!"

At the end of the hallway on the third floor was a closet. It was mainly used for linens and towels, but in this instance Sara used as a hiding place. She squished her body into a corner and put a hand over her mouth. Through the slits in the door, she saw her father's boots come into view. Father's boots hurt badly and Sara was hoping he would give up and not kick her like he did last time.

"Sara, you mind your father," her father said very firmly.

Sara backed further away from the door, but she hit a stack of towels. They fell over and knocked a basket off the shelf. She hated herself at that exact moment; she was clumsy and good for nothing. She heard her father's boots approaching fast. She said a quick prayer for God to keep her safe. The door yanked open and Sara looked up into a dark face that did not belong to her father.

"Sara," Dr. Clay said. "I found you."

She awoke with a start and placed her hands on her chest. She could feel her heart beating wildly underneath her nightshirt. The dream had been so real, but she didn't know if it was a memory or just a dream. She never remembered making a cake with her mother.

"Breath," she told herself.

The fact that Dr. Clay was in her dream was also mysterious. To her knowledge, she hadn't met him before. She had told Gil that she wanted to speak to a female doctor; if she had to speak to someone at all. She checked the bedside clock and saw that she had slept nearly four hours. Dr. Clay had suggested that she take her medication every four hours, so she unscrewed the cap and popped one into her mouth. She took a swig of the water bottle she had and tried to enter dreamland again.


	9. Improving greaatly

Gil Grissom sighed and flipped open the manila folder. He hadn't given Sara anything too difficult to work with since she had returned to work two weeks ago. She still seemed tired and distant, but he attributed this to the heft of getting back into the swing of things. It was obvious that she was making great strides to improve her situation. She hadn't request to look back into Shannon Andrew's case and Grissom didn't mention it. Instead, he looked at the files and evidence himself in the privacy of his office. As he looked at the faceless corpse, he couldn't help but realize that it could have been Sara; his Sara. They had both waited so long to be with each other and both their lives would have been cut short by a face stealing homicidal maniac. If he had lost Sara, he would have died. For as long as he had known her, he had wanted to be with her. He had wanted to feel the warmth of her skin next to him and smell her sweet smell. Now they had each other, but that security had been dangerously threatened. If there was any chance to help Sara be her true self again, then he had to put this man where he belonged. A slight tap on the door brought Grissom back to reality and he looked up. It opened slowly and Greg stuck his head in.

"Grissom," he said. "I have those missing persons you requested."

"Good," Grissom replied. "I'll take them."

Greg handed him the thick folder, gazing down at the photos of Shannon Andrews as he did so. He had heard the talk about the "Lake Tahoe Killer" attacking Sara, but she hadn't mentioned anything. He had gone by her apartment to visit her and see if she needed anything, but she hadn't been home. She hadn't been home for quite some time and Greg was beginning to worry.

"Is it true?" Greg asked.

Grissom looked up at the young man, a puzzled expression on his face. "Is what true?" he asked.

Greg cleared his throat and tried to make himself sound more professional. "Did Sara get attacked by the "Lake Tahoe Killer"?"

Grissom grunted. "Greg, you shouldn't be listing to idle gossip," he said. "But I know you are close to Sara and you are worried. It is true, but she is fine. Don't let her know that you know."

Greg's eyes widened. "Is there anything I can do for her?" he asked.

Grissom shook his head. "Just be her friend," he said.

The entomologist returned to his work, but Greg didn't leave. Grissom sensed his presence and looked back up at him. "Is there anything else?" he asked.

"Are you going to try to find him?" Greg asked.

Grissom sighed. "I want to, Greg," he said. "But it isn't that simple. We have cases piling up and this case seems to be at a dead end. All I can do is look for him on my spare time."

"Do you think he has done this before?" Greg asked.

Grissom sighed and he knew that he wouldn't get rid of the young CSI unless he answered the question. "I think that there is a possibility," he admitted.

"Is that-"Greg started.

"Goodbye Greg," Grissom said.

0_0

Dr. Clay was a good man, but his voice annoyed Sara and struck a nerve. She had debated finding another professional, but everyone insisted that Dr. Clay was the best. In his office she was able to discuss things that she only told Gil. She spoke of her childhood and the pain of having your innocence and trust betrayed by the people who were supposed to protect you.

"You're improving greatly," Dr. Clay had told her during their last session.

Sara was in doubt. "Am I?" she asked. "Dr. Clay… there is something I have been meaning to ask you about. I've been dizzy… is it my medication or could it be something else?"

Dr. Clay scratched his chin. "I am planning on reducing your medication after this session," he said. "After a few weeks on this new medication come by and tell me how things are going. You may feel strange at first, but it won't last."

Sara nodded, but felt doubt deep inside. She hadn't told anyone but Dr. Clay about her dizziness. "If I were pregnant… how would this medication affect a baby?" she asked.

Dr. Clay seemed concerned. "Do you think you are pregnant?" he asked her.

Sara shook her head. "I am not sure," she admitted. "I was just wondering if I am dizzy because I am pregnant."

Dr. Clay set down his clipboard. "Have you told Gil?" he asked.

Sara shook her head. If she told Gil she was pregnant when she wasn't, then he may start to worry. It was best that she take a test first and then decide what to do.

"A supervisor getting his subordinate pregnant isn't exactly something you want to put on your résumé," she said.

"Any other symptoms?" Dr. Clay asked.

Sara nodded. "I'm cold all the time… I get… confused," she struggled to say.

Dr. Clay checked his watch. "Alright, I am going to reduce your medication for now. If you find out you are pregnant, stop taking it."

He handed Sara a prescription and as she took it her fingers brushed his. A shiver ran down her spine and for a moment she felt afraid, but of what she was not sure. Dr. Clay was a good man, but something about the way he looked at her rubbed her the wrong way.

"Thank you," she said.

0_0

Of course she wasn't pregnant. Her ministrations were like clockwork, she had divulged this during a previous session. The Oxycontin was working as he had hoped, but now it was time for a step-up. What he gave her was pure Methamphetamine, but he had to concoct it himself. If he gave her too much, then she could die. However, if he gave her too little then the psychotic break he was hoping for wouldn't happen. After a few weeks on Methamphetamine, she would begin to crack and see hallucinations. He had a bed open for her in his hospital; he had made sure of it. The Painted Desert Institution was ready for Sara Sidle to stop by for a visit. Once she was there, the game would reach a new level.

"You're very welcome," Clay said, handing her a new prescription. "I want you to remember that you made it, you escaped. Nothing in this world can hold you down."

As their hands touched he felt Sara shudder. Was it possible that her body knew his by instinct? He wondered what she would feel like in his hospital… under his constant watch. Of course he would have to reveal himself to her, but once the Methamphetamine made its way through her entire system there would be no doubt that Sara Sidle had gone insane.

Sara smiled her beautiful smile, the smile she would be smiling for him. "I couldn't have done it without Gil, "she said.

Clay nodded, more in disagreement than agreement. "Give yourself more credit," he said. "Gil is a good man, but you made it through your own life before you met him."

He was going to miss their little meetings together. Truth be told, he had come to admire her. She was a woman who had risen out of the ashes and fought her way to the top. Her freckled face was going to look nicely on his wall.

0_0

Sara put her hand to her mouth to mask a yawn and entered the C.S.I headquarters. She turned the new bottle of pills over in her hand and read the label. She hated medication with a passion, but if these tiny pills were the answer to reestablishing her sanity… then bring on the water. She opened the bottle, tapped one into her hand, and popped it into her mouth. She gulped down a generous amount of water and leaned her head back as the pill started its travel through her body. She ran her left hand against her stomach and sighed. Children were a beautiful thing and she wanted to have children with Gil, but now was not the time.

"Hey," Sara heard Greg say behind her.

Sara was quick to hide her pill bottle. "Hey," she said, smiling broadly at her friend. "How's it going?"

Greg shrugged. "Can't complain," he said. "I went by your place with a six pack, but you weren't there."

Sara racked her brain for an excuse. She couldn't very well tell him that she was staying with the supervisor. "I've been looking for a new place," she lied.

Greg seemed to buy this excuse. "Oh, well… if you need some help you know where to find me," he said. "You owe me breakfast still."

Sara couldn't help but laugh. She loved Greg more than she dare say, but it wasn't the romantic love that she shared with Gil; it was a deep friendship.

"I'll pay up," she laughed.

Greg smiled. "You better," he said. "I miss spending time with you. You're the only one who understands me around this joint."

0_0

The noise was defining as Nick and Sara pulled up to the Stop'n'Shop on fifth. The music blared loudly from a car from across the street, but there was nothing that Sara could do about it. She clenched her teeth and followed her Texan friend into the store.

"How many times have we visited this place?" Nicked asked, setting his silver case on the ground.

Sara shook her head. "I don't even want to count," she said, trying her best to smile.

Sara watched as Nick snapped on his gloves and went about his routine. She had never noticed before, but his technique had an annoying undertone to it. There was something about the flick of his wrist that was irritating at this moment. The obnoxious music could still be heard outside the store, making her grit her teeth harder. It had been more than a week since she had started the new medication, but she saw no improvement. Her brain seemed to buzz with excitement.

"Sara," Nick asked, breaking her from her concentration. "You alright?"

Sara rubbed her forehead. "Good question," she commented as she took her case and proceeded towards another counter.

Dusting for finger prints was a waste of time. Every time they worked a B&E at this particular Stop'N'Shop, no one was ever apprehended. The only outcome was a sore neck from bending over and black powder underneath your fingernails.

"Nick this is useless," Sara said as she selected the boring black powder.

"Well, this could be the time we catch this guy," he replied. "You know that this job is a lot of give and hardly any take."

His smug remark was not what she was looking for, but Sara shook her head and continued her work. If a CSI ever had the urge to sneeze while dusting for fingerprints, then it was best to cover your mouth and go outside. No one could risk germs, mucus, or blown away finger print dust in a crime scene. It was just Sara's luck that a monstrous sneeze tickled her nose and the back of her throat. Quickly she covered her mouth and rushed as far away from the counter as she could.

"God bless you," Nick called as she left the store.

Outside her sneeze escaped and she gulped in the night air. Across the street, the music was still blaring and Sara fought the urge to demand that it be turned down. She knew that she was a professional and she needed to act professionally.

"Bless you sweetie," someone yelled from across the street.

Sara clenched her fists and tightened her jaw. She knew in her heart that everyone was deliberately pissing her off because they knew she was having a hard time dealing with her attack. It wasn't her fault she couldn't get a handle on her situation.

"Leave me alone," Sara called back.

She was a little confused as to why she had said what she said, but she was glad she did. Letting out her frustrations eased her mind. She knew who was to blame for this… Dr. Clay. She had been told that this new medication would help her feel better, but all it did was make her angry, paranoid, and nervous. She tried to work through it for Gil, but she couldn't take it.

"You better watch your mouth," said a big, muscular man. "Before we show you how to use it."

Sara rolled her eyes. "You're not going to be showing me shit," she said, turning to head back to the store.

"Oooh," one of the smaller guys said. "You gonna let a bitch diss you like that Dee?"

Sara felt more brazen than ever. "Yeah Dee…you gonna let me diss you like that?"

Before Sara could react, the one known as 'Dee' stood up and walked over to her. Panic rose in her for a moment, but she quickly found her strength again and withdrew her gun.

"I wouldn't make another move," she said, her tone serious.

A hand came down over hers and she looked back into Nick's brown eyes. "That's enough Sara," he said. "Go back inside."

Sara stood for a moment and blinked. She wondered if what just happened really happened. Did she really start a fight with a civilian and pull her gun?

"That's right bitch," Dee said.

"Calm down Dee," Nick said. "Go on back to work before I look in that car."

Dee mumbled something and turned back to his car. Nick hurried after Sara and grabbed her by the arm. One look into her brown eyes told him something wasn't right.

"What's going on with you?" he asked.

Sara couldn't answer because she didn't know. "I'm just so tired," she admitted.

"I think you need to go back to the lab," he told her. "I'll finish up here. I'll call Grissom to come and get you."

Sara nodded and knew that Nick was about to give Gil an ear full. They have already been having problems. Sara's lack of sleeping had been taking a toll on both of them. She tried to explain that she wasn't tired, but Gil thought she was just trying to get into the old habit of overworking again.

"You're not sleeping," Gil had told her. "It's these pills. I am going to go and talk to Dr. Clay myself."

Truth be told, Sara didn't want to be on them anymore. "I'd rather flush them right now," she had said.

This conversation and many others played in her head as she waited for Gil to show up and drag her back to the lab. As she was preparing herself for what her supervisor had to say, Nick called her name and she went back into the store to see what he wanted.

"What?" she said.

Nick looked up. "I didn't say anything, Sara," he said, focusing his attention back on his work.

Sara was puzzled. "You didn't just call my name?" she asked.

Nick shook his head. "No," he said.

As Sara was exiting the store, Gil drove up and she heard him pop the locks for her. With a sigh she grabbed her kit and drug herself to the Tahoe. She knew that the ride was going to be long when she opened the door and caught Gil's stare. His blue eyes had a way of piercing through your skin when he was angry.

"We are going to Dr. Clay tomorrow," he said as he slowly backed out of the lot and swung onto the road.

Sara didn't know what to say. "I don't know what I am doing," she admitted. "I'm sorry."

Gil did a double-take. "You should know enough not to pull your gun on someone!" he said.

Sara covered her ears to block out his voice, her head was aching terribly. She thought that if it pounded any harder it would explode and leak out of her ears.

"I'm talking to you," Gil said, pulling her arm down.

She couldn't take it. Everything piled up at once and before she knew what she was doing, she pulled her arm back. She raised her left hand and felt her palm smack against the side of his face. Gil was stunned, but kept a straight face as he drove.

"I don't want to go back to the lab," she said, putting her hands back over her ears. "Take me home."

Gil didn't object. He drove past the lab and turned in the direction of home.


End file.
